Strange Days
by Blisterdude
Summary: For Hansel and Gretel, everything changed after slaying Muriel in Augsburg. Their pasts were revealed in a way neither was prepared for, and their battle with the witches was far more than any simple hunt. With Ben and Edward in tow, the twins try to come to terms with the direction of their lives, and an uncertain future.


A/N: Yes, readers, I am not dead. Been really, really busy at work lately. And then ill, really ill. Then work again. Before I knew it, it'd been something like a month and more since I'd updated any of my stories or even been on here. But for now, I am back, and with a new offering.

Mostly wrote this because I've been meaning to do something with Hansel and Gretel since I saw the film. Witch Hunters was cheesy, hammy, silly, and I am completely in love with Gemma Arterton. Loved every minute of the silly film and really, really enjoy the relationship between the siblings. Naturally, I wanted to explore that by taking it into socially unacceptable territory, as is my wont.

(For the uninitiated, I do not support incest in the real world. It's wrong and a bit nasty. In literature however, I find it makes for some compelling drama and themes.)

Anyhoo, the other reason I wrote this was just to get back in the swing of things, haven't written in a while, and writing something fresh was easier than diving right back into Cold War, Broken Lance or To The Lost. Rest assured fans of any of those stories though, they will be resuming updates soon...ish.

Anyway, long-ass explanation aside, enjoy!

...

Gretel slid down the side of the bank, holding her arms out for balance as her boots cut through the wet mud, kicking up flecks of dirty water and sticky lumps of turf, spattering her skin and face, not that she noticed. The heavy rain that had started that morning continued unabated, plastering loose strands of her hair to her face. She was only grateful she'd managed to get most of it into a braid before they'd left Gaustadt that morning.

"Hansel!" She cried out, flinging a hand out and grabbing a tree at the bottom of the slope to steady herself, before forcing herself into a loping run through the mud and unslinging the heavy crossbow from her back.

A low, throaty roar erupted some way to her right, followed by a splintering crash and what sounded like a tree falling down. As she turned toward it, the shrieking laugh rang out, only to be drowned out by several gunshots.

Gretel pushed through the soaking firs, swatting branches aside as she forged ahead. She shoved aside another, only for a second branch to swing back into her face, half-blinding her with water. She spluttered, wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her leather jacket irritably, then glanced upward.

Ahead lay a small clearing. Edward loomed over a fallen tree, shaking his fist painfully, covered head to toe in mud and leaves and Hansel struggled to reload his gun, looking equally bruised and bedraggled. The witch struggled to fly above, weighted down by Ben clinging to the end of her broom, still shrieking with laughter.

And today had started off so simply.

Gretel yanked a hook from the front of her crossbow, attached to a thin, but very strong metal wire. She lashed it around a tree to her left and tugged it back, then coiled the crossbow around another tree to its right.

"Hey, bitch!" She yelled, too tired, sore and uncomfortable to think of anything better.

The witch stopped, finally shaking Ben free who fell to the drenched ground in a splash. She regarded her hungrily, raising her wand and laughing again.

"Gretel!" Hansel roared, raising his gun and firing at the witch, but it only served to drive the creature toward her.

Gretel stepped back from the two trees, as the witch swept forward. She drew a hunting shotgun from her belt, with the barrels sawn down and without bothering to aim, fired.

The buckshot hammered into the witch, destroying the front of her broom. She screamed as she lurched forward, eyes widening as she finally noticed the barely visible razor-wire set up between the trees.

Gretel closed her eyes as it collided with the wires, followed by a sickening squelch.

She cringed as she felt the sticky droplets patter on her face, all too familiar these days with the warm, clinginess of blood coating her face.

At least it wasn't hers.

The witch thrashed about in front of her, nearly cut in two by the steel-wire. Gretel jammed another two shells into the sawn-off and aimed it at the twitching, fleshy creature. She heard Hansel approach, followed by the lumbering footsteps of Edward and Ben's heavy gasping.

Without looking up, she fired twice. The witches head disappeared in a fountain of bloody flesh as the buckshot pulverised it's all too mortal shell.

"Nice, sister." Hansel muttered, mopping his now bloody brow.

"Shut up." She said, wiping her own face pointlessly. It would take considerable effort to get the combination of rain, mud and blood out…again.

"Dead?" Edward growled.

Hansel turned and clapped the big troll on the shoulder.

"Very." He grinned, shooting Gretel a look.

She smirked back, wryly, clipping the old shotgun to her belt again.

"We get paid now, right?" Ben asked, brushing his sopping wet hair out of his eyes.

"We?" Her brother laughed sharply, seeing the look on Ben's face. "Sure, sure. Take Edward and fetch the cart, we'll get…uh…_it_ ready." He regarded the bloody lumps that remained of the witch.

Edward grunted and lumbered off.

"Maybe a sack or something would be a good-"

"Good idea kid." Hansel shoved him off after Edward.

"Oh," Ben managed, despite Hansel's insistent pushing. "Nice work, Gretel!" He smiled cheerfully.

"Thanks." She managed a brief smile as he jogged off after the troll.

Hansel thrust a hand into the folds of his leather duster and pulled out a pipe. She watched, amused, as with considerable effort he managed to strike a match and light it.

"So, you got this whole execution thing going now or something?" His eyes lingered on the shotgun.

She looked down at the corpse, then back at her brother.

"It was Jackson's." She said, simply.

"I know."

"Muriel murdered him, he was just trying to help us."

Hansel lowered the pipe, strolling around the body over to her. He laid a hand on her arm, looking her in the eyes.

"I liked the old guy, too, but our lives are dangerous enough without making it riskier with…with…poetic justice." He frowned slightly.

Gretel scoffed.

"I wasn't in any fucking danger." She saw the look on his face. "Any _more_ danger than usual, anyway. And besides, like you're one to give me that talk? Remember how you wound up lost out in the forests around Augsberg to begin with?" She crossed her arms.

"I…" Hansel's eyes wandered upward, as he took another draw on the pipe. "…I might have hitched a ride on a broomstick with one of Muriel's sisters."

He met his sister's gaze, taking in her unimpressed expression and her raised eyebrow.

"It…might have been poor judgement." He conceded.

"Maybe."

They fell silent for a moment, taking in the battered, beaten and bloody state of one another, before breaking out in a laugh and smiling stupidly.

"You'd think we'd be better at this by now." Gretel chuckled, tugging damp, loose strands of hair from her eyes.

"Still alive." Her brother shrugged, as if it was nothing. "Long as it stays that way, it's worth a few bumps."

"Yeah, a few bumps." She laughed slightly, unconsciously running a hand over some of the older scars and scabs from past injuries on her cheek. It was only a few weeks since they'd left Augsburg, and the wounds from when Sheriff Berringer and his men had-

Hansel's brow furrowed at the motion and she saw him wince slightly and look away. She lowered her hand quickly, inwardly cursing. Her brother still hadn't forgiven himself, it seemed, for not being there when it…when they nearly…

"Brother-" She began, interrupted by a shout from behind them.

Ben jogged through the trees, carrying a thick, olive canvas.

"Edward's back there with the cart and our gear, by the road." He gasped, catching his breath, then took in the strained silence between the twins. "Everything okay?"

"Great." Hansel replied, quickly. "C'mere." He gestured Ben over and they began to wrap the bloody corpse in the canvas. With a grunt, the two of them lifted the mass and began heading back towards the slope that led up to the road.

Ben might not have noticed anything beyond Hansel's usual snappy demeanour, but Gretel could see he was rattled. She retrieved her crossbow and followed the two, staring at the back of Hansel's head in guilt.

He could be such a closed book, sometimes. Not that they weren't close, because they were, always had been. Life had forced them to be so, circumstance had brought them to where they were, side by side as always. They were a team, companions, family. More than family. She knew him better than anybody, and the same went for him, she was sure.

But still, her brother had always been…reserved.

Before Augsburg, he had refused to discuss their past or their parents. Now having discovered much of the truth of their childhood, their mother a good witch, their resistance to magic, even Gretel's fledgling…potential.

Gretel herself was still uncomfortable with the final revelation.

Hansel though, reticent before, was now even more so. He blamed himself for what nearly happened to her with the Sheriff, and he likely held himself responsible for Mina's death. Gretel wanted to talk to him about all these things, knowing he was as troubled as she, but he seemed dead set against it. And with Ben and Edward along now, there were few opportunities to broach the topics in private.

On top of that, he seemed to be pushing them harder than usual. This was their third witch-kill in the few weeks since defeating Muriel and her coven, along with all the others they slew at the Bloodmoon.

He was driving himself, and she was driving herself for fear of what would happen when he finally fell. She hoped it wouldn't end as badly as she feared, in those quiet moments at night, when the others slept.

As she scrambled up the muddy, slippery rise, she saw Edward lifting the cart as Hansel finished stowing the corpse. Ben was already walking ahead, trying to check the map while keeping it out of the rain, under his coat.

She chucked her crossbow onto the back of the cart, noting that her brother actually flinched as it suddenly flew past him.

"Hansel." She said quietly, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"Edward." He ordered.

The troll grunted and began following Ben. Hansel stepped forward, but she tightened her hold.

"Hey." She hissed.

"What?" He turned back, eyes meeting hers.

She wondered whether to tell him it wasn't his fault again, or whether to ask whether he wanted to talk, or whether simply to ask if anything was wrong, but something told her he'd simply clam up again and move on.

"We should take a break." She tried to smile reassuringly, settling on a different tack. "We haven't stopped since we beat Muriel and…" She glanced ahead toward Edward and Ben. "…we're only human. Well, most of us."

He looked like he was going to object, but he must have seen something in her look as his own grim expression faltered and softened, slightly.

"Witches don't stop." He argued, though it seemed more of a forced objection than an actual argument.

"Neither will we." She let her hand run down his shoulder to his hand, silently thrilled as he took her hand in his and squeezed. His rough-skinned fingers rubbed soothingly over her own coarse, scratched hand. "But a day or two, just to…to think about things."

Hansel nodded slightly, picking up the implication. It was true he had been pushing them, it was true he had been trying to put off addressing everything that they'd learned, that had happened since Augsburg. It was true that he'd been afraid to talk to Gretel about these things, even though on some level, he wanted to. There was nobody else to talk to. There was nobody else he would ever consider talking to.

It was true he had been less than…less than he should have been, as her brother, in the past weeks.

"A few days couldn't hurt." He glanced upward, embarrassed by the small joy in her eyes, the slight smile, as her lips curled upward. He cleared his throat and turned to follow the receding cart, only to find Gretel still holding his hand, remaining beside him.

He paused briefly again, before making an awkward growling sound at the back of his throat. Gretel smiled and, still holding his hand, they began the journey back to town.


End file.
